Hunt Me! I Crave the Chase (Spooky Boys #3)

So yeah.

Bird shit on Avery’s head was probably the funniest thing that had happened to me in my entire fucking life, and I was going to enjoy that shit. Literally. For as long as possible. Served him right for being an actual animal whisperer or some shit.

Karma.

And I needed something to feel good about, considering how disappointed and in pain I currently felt. The ibuprofen I’d taken had worn off like an hour ago, and my head was throbbing, and I genuinely just wanted to go back to this weekend.

Back to Mutt’s bed.

Our nest.

The perfectly reasonable amount of clutter in his bedroom, and the cute angry gnome that decorated it.

Back to when I was happy and whole and curled up with someone that made me forget my mistakes. Someone who made me feel like it was okay that I’d made them in the first place.

I wasn’t sure what I brought to the table for Mutt. I was more surly than he was. I didn’t have his sunny disposition—when I wasn’t faking it—and I couldn’t run with him, not like his brothers could. I couldn’t shift.

Which was part of why I’d so badly hoped Avery would have some books about wolves. I’d thought…maybe if I researched enough, I could figure out how to make myself useful to Mutt. So that he’d need me like I needed him.

“Shoo, shoo,” Avery flicked his hand at me in dismissal, huffing in exasperation down at Gregory like he expected to get shat on again. “I’ll see what I can find and get it in for you.”

Avery was the fucking best!

He turned his back to me, a clear dismissal. His little vest was cinched up in the back, his dress pants clinging to his legs in the way they always did. Despite working for himself, Avery liked to dress to impress. You couldn’t catch him dead at work outside of his little suits, bowties, vests, and slick little dress shoes.

I didn’t have the clearance to order books like Avery did, so I appreciated him even more now.

“Thanks, Avery! See you later.”

He waved me off. Earlier, he’d been concerned when he’d seen my face. He’d tried to send me home, and I had quickly declined. Now, however, I was more than ready to be done for the day.

Luckily for me, my apartment was just off of Spruce, not far from the shop so I had plenty of time to daydream as I made the walk back home.

There were no texts waiting on my phone from Mutt, but I figured that wasn’t all that weird. Last night had been the full moon, after all.

He’ll text soon.

Unless…

I knew today was a bust in general…but maybe Mutt would even be waiting for me when I got home? Furry or not, I don’t really care at this point.

That’s a nice thought.

That someone would be there waiting for me when I came home.

Someone to tell about the bird shit on Avery’s head. Someone to laugh with. To smoke with. To share shitty take-out with, to watch movies with, and to fall asleep with only to start the pattern all over again the next day.

Someone who woke up and wanted to make me smile. Someone who told me I was beautiful when I looked like a train wreck. Someone who said “hair grows” and “wounds heal” and “you are the most wonderful person in the world.”

Blair had found Elmwood. He’d found a place to belong. A place he could move on and be happy. And I’d resented him for it. I’d resented the fact that he could move forward when I couldn’t. And now that I’d taken that first shaky step on my own toward the future, I knew how unfair that had been.

Mutt shared his rose-colored glasses, even if he didn’t mean to.

Even if he was nosy, handsy, and stupid enough to pretend to be a dog.

He felt like he was mine, when nothing else did.

Mutt wasn’t waiting for me at home.